Festpredigten : twenty festival sermons (1897-1902) (edition 2012)

What a blessing this little book is. I know that’s not a very conventional way to open a critical review; however as simple as Festpredigten is, it is no ordinary book (Geffen, 2012). It is a work of love – of grace – of quiet but solid faith. If you expect one of those hefty tomes jam-packed with exposition and explication, the kind I grew up with as a Southern fundamentalist, you’re in for a surprise. This is a handy little volume of 91 pages. The sermons of Rabbi Dr. Isaac Rosenberg (1860-1940) are brief, simple, clear, gentle, gracious, thoughtful, and – for me at least – positively inspiring. Each of the twenty sermons was delivered on a holy day (e.g., Rosh Hashanah, Kol Nedrei, Yom Kippur, Pesach, Shavuot) between 1897 and 1902 in Thorn, Germany (ceded to Poland after World War I). The sermons read like daily devotionals.

Usually I distrust blurbs quoted in books or on their covers; however, in this case, three quotations from original reviews in 1903 still ring absolutely true today:

• These twenty sermons reveal a faithful shepherd transmitting to his flock admonitions and teachings drawn from the living well of life. He is aware of the needs, wishes, troubles, and delights of his people.
• The author knows how to weave in an appropriate Midrashic word, a Talmudic parable, or an illuminating biblical verse in just the right place.
• The language is simple, rich in poetry, without affectation. Nobility of speech, clarity, and order of construction – all of these assure these sermons a place in homiletic literature.

Rosenberg’s themes still ring true today even though we have lost the sense of “holy days” and the sense of community bolstered by the observance of these annual rituals. Even the word for holy days (“holidays”) is spelled and pronounced differently, losing its original meaning altogether. Though some of them trace their origin to religious phenomena or to even earlier pagan celebrations of the seasons (e.g., Christmas/winter solstice; Easter/coming of spring; Halloween/All Hallows Eve/honoring departed saints), these “holidays” have been transformed into secular festivities, emphasizing commercial appeal (a harvest for merchants in shopping malls, mail order suppliers, small urban and suburban businesses) with cute, comic characters (Santa Claus, the Easter bunny, the witches and ghosts of Halloween, and the like).

Rosenberg’s sermons were delivered at a time when and in a location where religious observance was already becoming less strict, was more often disregarded, and even seemed to be disappearing for some families. Nevertheless, he did not lambaste his flock who showed up at the synagogue only for major “holidays.” Instead he reminded them of those timeless themes that hold families and communities together, even in hard times: an awareness of Presence, the spiritual dimension of nature and everyday life, intergenerational and international ties, and the power of ancient symbols (bread and wine, the tents or sukkah, the family table, and the like).

I am not a Jew. I have never been to Germany. I do not speak or read German or Yiddish or Hebrew. I did not live over 100 years ago. I have never been a member of a minority, discriminated against by society at large. Yet Rosenberg reaches across all those boundaries and speaks directly to me.

Upon receiving the book, I was eager to get to the sermons. So I turned immediately to the Pesach sermons because of the time of year. I could not have made a wiser decision. As the spring was breaking around me, I was caught by Sermon #13, “The Family Celebration.” The text is Song of Songs 2.11-12: “For, lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone. The flowers appear on the earth, the time of singing has come.” As spring burst forth all around me – jonquils and tulips, lilacs and forsythia, redbud and dogwood and magnolia –, I was captured immediately by the first sentence of the sermon: “Our own feelings are mirrored in this joyful, springtime celebration from Song of Songs, as we observe Nature blossoming forth its buds, and we see fields and meadows covered, as if by a magical hand, in a festive floral garb.” It was as if Rabbi Rosenberg, there over 100 years ago, was saying for me what I need to say now in 2012, giving words I need for feelings and insights I cannot always articulate for myself.

Eventually, however, I did read the translator’s introduction, and found there the story embedded in these sermons and in their preservation through the years. And the volume is a monument to an extraordinary family, descending from a remarkable forefather. Fred Gottlieb, the editor and translator, is the rabbi’s grandson. “At the time of this writing,” Gottlieb informs us, “his progeny extends into the fifth generation, and together with their spouses, exceeds well over one hundred souls, all Jewish, all Torah-true.” In this day and age, that alone is a tribute to the family’s progenitors and a modern miracle of steadfastness.

Ironically, the history of Jewish people in the 20th century adds a level of depth and a sense of prophetic insight to the sermons. When the village of Thorn was ceded to Poland, the rabbi and his family resettled in Berlin, where he was a teacher and inspector of Hebrew schools for eighteen years. Almost eighty years old, he then had to flee to England after Kristallnacht, where he died in 1940.

Speaking of centrality of family, Rabbi Rosenberg maintains, “As long as the sanctity of the family is maintained, a people’s existence is secure, despite attempts at suppression by outside enemies and destruction of political independence.” He goes on, “Israel surmounted victoriously the most severe suffering and the bloodiest persecution, even if with tearful eyes and heavy hearts. Throughout the millennia, as our people were suppressed and hounded by their neighbors, the family was the paradise in which the Jew too refuge.” (Sermon #13, First Day of Pesach, 1902)

Speaking of the revelation at Mt. Sinai, its past and future significance, he concludes, in another sermon, “God’s rule is not limited to the realm of the stars, but … He is the benevolent Father of each and every one of us; in Him we find refuge from all of life’s tribulations and safety in His protection. “ With hope and trust, we read of his assurance: “And, even if, after the passage of millennia, the world will once again be dug out from under the rubble and confront Israel’s Revelation – never will the message from Sinai be eclipsed. Even in the distant future, God’s word will illuminate man’s path and lead him from the darkness to spiritual heights.” (Sermon #20, First Day of Shavuot, 1903)

Thank you, Rabbi Rosenberg for giving us these quiet words to reflect upon. And, thank you, Fred Gottlieb, for translating them into a modern English that speaks to us all and for us all and about us all.

“I am the Eternal, your God, most holy, loving, and everlasting.”

Rabbi Dr.Rosennberg chooses this scripture as the summary of the significance of the revelation on Mt. Sinai. “From the summit of Sinai,” he insists, “rose the sun that, today, lends spiritual comfort and nourishment to all mankind. . . . Israel established the principle that men are created in the image of God, and that oppression and enslavement of one’s fellow man [and woman] is therefore forbidden.” (Sermon #18, the First Day of Shavuot, 1901) Emanating from this central focus are values that the rabbi frequently calls us to attend to: the foundation of law, human freedom and nobility, care for the poor, the weak, and the needy, peace on earth, the brotherhood of humankind, restraint and self-control, the richness of a prayerful life and veneration of the a divine Presence.

These sermons effectively reinforce my faith and uplift my spirits. Indirectly, I see how they apply to the rituals and tenets of my own particular faith community. But if I were to convert to another community, I am sure it would be to orthodox Judaism. Its holy books and its holy days are bright lights in the firmament of God’s presence.